


The beauty of a secret

by Klainesflirtyduets



Category: Glee
Genre: Kurt/Sebastian - Freeform, M/M, Sebkurt - Freeform, kurtbastian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klainesflirtyduets/pseuds/Klainesflirtyduets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt doesn't know who he is anymore, suffocated and plagiarized by duties and the expectations of others. So sometimes he likes to go out alone, without his friends, to relax and drink and just be himself. During one of those nights he meets Sebastian again. Sebastian who he doesn't hate anymore, Sebastian who is exotic and witty and fascinating. Sebastian that allows him to just BE and that turns his world completely upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Premise

The sex between them is nothing Kurt has ever experienced before. There’s no room for sweet touching of hands, no gentleness; no place for caresses, romantic kisses and longing stares. It’s not based on _feelings_ or thoughts – those are forbidden. Everything between them is pure instinct, utter ferocity and hunger for a much deeper contact, for a harder kiss, for a greater pleasure. It’s always rushed, and chaotic and overwhelming. Kurt feels breathless most of the time, has no time to time to even think of what he’s doing, where he is, because his brain blacks out and adrenaline fills his veins, want takes control of his actions. He becomes blind and deaf and so damn selfish because the world suddenly disappears, his brain receptive of skin on skin, labored breaths and rushing hearts only.

And it’s bad, Kurt knows it. The more he takes advantage of the situation the more he wants to continue. The _last time_ is never actually the last, when he says _no_ he never really means it. It’s like a drug, that intoxicates him, overwhelms him, penetrates the pores of his skin. It makes his limbs lose and vibrant with need, it numbs his rationality, makes him act like an animal. He’s so blinded by want that he doesn’t understand what’s better for him anymore, doesn’t even _care_ , even though he really should: when something, when some _one_ affects you to the point where you don’t even recognize yourself anymore, the logical thing to do would be stopping before it’s too late. But the truth is that Kurt doesn’t _want_ to stop. He wouldn’t have given in in the first place: everything screamed danger to him even at the beginning, when he couldn’t imagine yet how things would be. But he went on anyway, because he needed to prove to himself that he could do something like that, that he could casually have sex and be reckless and irresponsible.

The problem is that he would never have guessed that Sebastian – arrogant, bitchy, exotic and unbelievably intriguing Sebastian Smythe could have that effect on him.

Sebastian, who’s handsome when pliant and surrendered under his hands, whose moans are music and whose smell is aphrodisiac to him. Sebastian, whose kisses burn Kurt’s skin, and whose calloused fingers know where to touch and caress and squeeze and mark. Sebastian, who had to be just an experiment, a bet, who has turned Kurt’s world upside down, who has Kurt under a spell that makes him desperate and vibrant with want for his touch and body. Sebastian, who makes him ruthless and brutal, nearly animalistic, sexual in a way he would never have guessed he could be. Sebastian, with whom he has sex, but wishes he could have _more_ , something unnamable, forbidden. Sebastian, who’s undeniably _toxic_ and is making Kurt fall _ill_.

He already recognizes the symptoms, sees the side effects of that sick game of theirs in his eyes, in his smell, in his thoughts. Sebastian is everywhere, like a virus capable of creeping in every fiber of his body, but in a contorted way he’s also the cure. Kurt is dependent, has no power against him, to push him away, to fight him. He’s completely subdued, enslaved by all those poisonous, fatal things he makes him feel.

Unexpected things that Kurt isn’t supposed to feel at all.

__ And he hates it - hates _him_ because he’s not what he expected, but at the same time Sebastian and the feelings that came with him are something he would never have thought of wanting but that he found himself _needing_. And God, when he’s with Sebastian, Kurt just needs and feels _so much_ it’s scary, but at the same time it’s never _enough_.

He just wants more. He wants more kisses, and more touches, and he wants them harder and deeper and faster. But at the same time he wants them to go slower, to appreciate the moments they share, he wants to remember every single whispered word, every moan, every fleeting look, every heartbeat that could mean more.

Usually they have no time for that, though. They still go for ruthless and brutal most of the times, because they need to fuck their worries and stress out, need the physical closeness of another body to calm down, to feel grounded. They don’t talk much, not anymore. At the beginning they used to lash out at each other while fucking,because their escapades were all about taking out all their stress and frustration, but now they prefer letting their bodies voice their desires; they prefer listening to that rough, wild melody that generates from the sound of their skin brushing and sliding together, their shaky breaths, the ruffling of the sheets under their weight, that music that echoes in the silence of either Sebastian’s parents empty apartment or Kurt’s room in Bushwick.

Doors are never locked, lights rarely on, completely forgotten when the two of them stumble frantically towards the first horizontal surface they can find. Nothing matters when they’re together that way, they don’t care if they don’t reach the mattress and end up collapsing on the floor. All they care about is touching, and feeling, and letting go, and surrendering to the voracious lust that burns their brains when they’re in proximity of one another, that consuming desire that bends them with no difficulty whatsoever, that makes them act like beasts.  
And God, if it doesn’t feel good.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :)  
> Here's the second chapter of the story, in which Sebastian and Kurt become a thing. Please, fasten your seat belt!  
> Ps: I've double checked, but I'm a mistake-making human, so feel free to let me know if I've misspelled anything.  
> Hope you enjoy it :)

CHAPTER 1

The beauty of a secret

The three beers he’s drunk in the last two hours have definitely kicked in.He’s not wasted – cannot be when he’sbeen sweating out what he’s had until then, but the alcohol surely has lowered his inhibitions and loosened his muscles. Music fills his ears, makes his heartbeat go faster, while he moves along other bodies, skin tingling and damp with sweat for his dancing and for the hot air in that overcrowded place. 

Everything is chaotic in there, where voices and breaths mingle together following the rhythm of a thousand hearts, where everything is loud and confused , where the lights are hypnotizing and mesmerizing. Kurt loves it, loves how it makes him feel lost, but at the same time gives him the impression of being exactly where he needs to be. It’s refreshing, being there. He can do what he wants, and what he wants is to shake and shimmy and sing and drink and get drunk and kiss and laugh. He just wants to have a good time for one night, without worries or thoughts and without being under the scrutinizing eye of his friends. He needs some much needed time _alone_ to just let go and relax and be how he wants to, which is something he cannot exactly do with his group of friends. 

Don’t get him wrong, his friends are awesome, but they’re just so..stuck up and adamant about everything, like they’ve got everything figured out, like they’re always sure of what to do. 

And that isn’t a bad thing per se; it’s good to have plans and dreams and morals to accomplish them. The problem lays in the fact that they push those ideals on him too. They have this conviction that he shares their same opinions and desires for the future,think that he’s got all figured out like them, when in actual fact Kurt is utterly, completely lost at the moment. 

Rachel is still convinced he only has sex when in serious relationships, that he wants to be married and with children by his thirties and that he’ll try again with NYADA, because theatre is his true biggest passion. 

Blaine..God, Blaine is frustrating. He looks at him like he’s about to break in a hundred pieces at any moment, like the night he told him that he’d cheated on him.

Artie seems shocked every time Kurt says something sex related, or cars related, or swears in front of him. In general, he looks traumatized if Kurt acts like a man, which he is, but his friend – just like Mercedes and Tina – tends to forget that he’s not into fashion and musicals only. 

The truth is, he likes to go out and get a drink if he has the chance, likes places like discos and pubs andif he meets someone cute he doesn’t mind going home with him at all. He _definitely_ hasn’t had sex only with Blaine and Adam. And while theatre and Broadway are his passion and his old dream, he’s not sure of wanting to reapply to NYADA, now that fashion looks as appealing as a future career. 

But Rachel doesn’t know that because she won’t listen to him, just like Blaine, who should just _stop_ looking at him like a kicked puppy. He is _okay_ , he’s not heartbroken because of him, hasn’t been for years. And that should have been clear the moment Kurt himself had set him and Elliott up for a date, really. 

And yes, he is a man, other than a twenty year-old capable of being rude and foul-mouthed if he wants.And yes, he likes sex and, if anyone remembers, he’s the son of Burt Hummel: he grew up among cars, which are something he loves _, a lot_. He just doesn’t talk much about them because the people he’d bring the topic on with are Puck, Sam and Finn, but when he calls them he has more important things to discuss. 

And Gosh, Kurt feels like a prick when he thinks about this, because he knows his friends mean well, knows they love him. And he loves them too, really. But sometimes he needs to get away from them because he feels like suffocating. He can’t breathe, can’t even think straight and that’s not good; if he doesn’t distance himself every now and then he may explode and say something he doesn’t mean to say. And even though that would amuse Santana – which is the only exception of the group, as she’s always been a step ahead of everyone thanks to her psychic Mexican third eye that tells her everything – he doesn’t really want to mess things up. 

So when he has the chance, he takes a day off from work, stays all day in his boxers and eats some junk food while watching trashy TV shows that Rachel would totally judge him for. Then when the night comes he showers, shaves and picks out the sexiest outfit he owns and he heads out to a pub, or a gay bar. He buys a few drinks – or lets someone else do that for him -, he dances and flirts and kisses nice guys. If he’s in the mood, sometimes he does more. And then, when he feels too tired, or too sick, he calls a cab and goes home – where Santana welcomes him with a smirk and painkillers. 

He needs this, every now and then. Just to let go and relax, just to fulfill that necessity of being completely himself, outside the schemes of someone else’s mind, of his friends’ minds, who would find him extremely out of character. They’d probably say he tries to much to be someone they think he’s not, someone fake, when in reality it’s how he actually is, just hidden behind duties and expectation of others.

And tonight is all about forgetting those duties and expectations. So when he feels the man standing behind him pushing against him even more, Kurt rolls his hips back, sending an imaginary _fuck you_ to the usual Kurt, the one that censors himself, that never stands up for his thoughts, that sacrifices his happiness to please everyone except himself. 

Kurt feels himself smiling a pleased smirk, as he moves in synchrony with the music that’s blasting from the PA and against his dancing partner’s suggestive pelvis movements. Regardless of his new friend’s allusive hints, Kurt has not come here to get laid tonight, especially considering that he’s just started seeing someone and going home with a stranger wouldn’t be the perfect beginning for a relationship. But that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little innocent fun with that strong, muscular man that’s clearly obsessed with his hips. So he starts moving even more sensually, rolling his flanks teasingly, enjoying the responses that his actions get in return. 

It’s nice, it makes him feel sexy and desired. And he may sound absurd and kind of self-absorbed but it’s been a long time since someone made him feel that way. 

Kurt feels the sexy man’s hands grab his hips and turn him around; he lets himself be maneuvered, follows his movements blindly. “Want a drink?” the boy whispers in his ears, his voice dark and sensual and loud enough so that Kurt can hear him over the pumping basses of the song playing. 

He’s had his last drink probably less than half an hour ago and another one wouldn’t help him stay present enough to keep his dick in his pants, so he shakes his head and refuses. “Let’s dance some more” he says back, squeezing the man’s shoulder as he leans close to his face. The blond-haired guy nods with a smirk and holds Kurt even closer to his body. 

They dance like that for awhile, bumping every now and then with other couples and those who are trying to swim among the sea of drunken people. Kurt’s having fun, so far. The man’s hands roam a bit too much for his liking, but he’s not too inappropriate and he dances well. Well, as well as someone can dance in a place like that, obviously. 

He doesn’t exactly know how much time has passed, so captured by the rhythm of the music that he’s lost track of everything; but he’s suddenly aware of his surroundings when he realizes that he has another strong body pressed to his back and another pair of hands taking hold of his hips, just above the blond guy’s grip. 

Kurt smiles, interested in the direction that the night is taking. He’s never been sandwiched between two sexy boys like this, so he sure wants to enjoy it. 

He slowly he starts rolling his hips so that he can meet both of the boys’ coordinated movements. They dance like this for awhile and it’s nice, at least till the moment their movements get too insistent and their grips too tight and everything gets too uncomfortable for Kurt. Suddenly the situation seems too much like a contest between the two guys to be enjoyable and Kurt discovers that being the meat part in a sandwich of sexy men can be great if the bread parts don’t start to be giants pricks andtreat you like the prize of some implicit, egocentric manly feud. Kurt’s very not okay with it. 

He slowly tries to sneak away from the two bodies, but another hand grabs his wrist. Kurt’s heart stops in his track for a second, but suddenly he’s out of that human sandwich and against the clothed chest of someone taller than him. His wrist is suddenly free, two firm hands kindly but securely rest on him, one at the base of his back, the other on his right hip, keeping him steady and safe. 

Then those same hands that were holding himurge his hips to move how they want to, following the rhythm of the song. The touch is still light, it’s gentle; the grasp on him is not forceful, but rather reassuring; it makes Kurt move along nearly automatically. 

Their moves are sensual, pleasantly intoxicating; Kurt feels his skin tickle, his body ignited by a new nameless sensation, so receptive and vibrant. It’s fascinating the way his body is perfectly in sync with this other one, how they seem made for this. 

Kurt knows he’s a little tipsy and that’s why his mind is this overwhelmed, but it’s also true that he’s never really felt this connected physically to anyone he knows, let alone to a stranger. It feels so natural, so automatic. He’s not even trying, it doesn’t even feel like _dancing_. It’s like letting his body free of _feeling_ its own impulses, amplified by the pulse of the music and the alcohol and the electricity emanated by the body that’s moving with his own. 

As he lets his hips roll easily, he closes his eyes and enjoys every movement, every friction, every contact that body, that _person_ can give him. Kurt thinks he should thank him for kidnapping him from those assholes, too. So he looks up, eager to put a name and a face to his “savior” boy. And for a moment, he’s completely taken aback. 

“I’d never picture a prude like you a gay bar person, you know?” 

His gaze meets two deep, green eyes, shining under a thousand of different colored lights. Two _familiar_ , mischievous eyes that belong to no other thanSebastian Smythe. 

If Kurt is shocked – and _he is_ – he doesn’t let it show, thanks to his poker face, perfected in the years in order to hide his contempt towards that exact boy in front of him when they were in Blaine’s company.But what shocks him more is realizing that all the hatred he felt in the past is now completely gone, because this Sebastian Smythe – the guy who’s just saved his ass from being smashed by the egos of two morons, but mostly the guy who’s just made him feel like pure energy – is not a menace for him, he’s not dangerous for his relationship anymore; gone is the jealousy, the disgust and the suffocating feeling of inadequacy. 

It’s strange, but also kind of liberating and..interesting. Of all the things that Sebastian extorted out of him in the past, the desire to tease him just for the sake of it is still there. That’s why Kurt puts his arms around his neck, with a smile that’s just as mischievous, and starts rolling his hips again. A peripheral part of his mind notices how easy it is to find the rhythm again, but he’s mostly busy enjoying the stunned expression on Sebastian’s face. 

“People change, Meerkat. It’s not my fault you’re such a terrible, boring two-dimensional character without any inner development.” He jokes, leaning closer to his face so that he can hear him. 

Sebastian’s surprised expression doesn’t last long though, as he quickly smirks with amusement. And then, Kurt feels himself be pressed more closely to the other boy’s body: from the way he’s moving intently, Kurt understands that Sebastian has just decided to play a game. And he has every intention of winning it too.

***

That night, the night of the club, they did fuck, regardless of Kurt’s previous plan of keeping his body to himself. He didn’t want to at first, because – again – he wasn’t looking for a one night stand and meaningless sex, especially not when he was about to go out with a guy in a few days. 

Yet things with Sebastian were different from the beginning. _He_ was different. 

Not only was Sebastian handsome and hot; he was _exotic_ and breathtaking and intoxicating. He was something else, something out of the ordinary, in the way he moved and smiled and danced and Kurt wondered how he never noticed that in the past; Sebastian looked heavenly _sinful_ under the stroboscopic lights of the club, with his hair all messed up and his skin damp and shiny for the sweat and that blissful, hypnotizing half smirk that made him look like he _owned_ himself and owned that place too. His green eyes were mesmerizing, his gaze so piercing it could bore holes in Kurt’s soul. 

And there was this energy, this inexplicable force between them; Kurt didn’t understand how, but just moving with Sebastian made him feel drunk and alive and as if he was made of pure _electricity._ He felt like burning, because Sebastian’s hands on his hips - even over his clothing -felt like fire. And it was so good, so simple and natural and so inexplicably _right,_ that it would break him to stop. 

So he didn’t. 

Eventually the kiss happened – and it felt inevitable, like it was something out of their control, but at the same time it seemed like they’d waited a lifetime for it. The moment their lips touched, Kurt kind of fell in love with Sebastian’s mouth. There were sparks – so similar to those old, nearly forgotten sensations he had felt with that first kiss with Blaine, but it was a complete different experience altogether. Kurt never imagined he could desire someone’s simple touch so much, never thought he could be so greedy for someone’s taste, so addicted to somebody’s lips or smell. Yet here he was, seeking Sebastian’s body and mouth and warmth like his life depended on that. 

Kurt doesn’t exactly know how they arrived at Sebastian’s place. He just remembers vaguely the backseats of a taxi, an elevator and the hardness of Sebastian’s front door against his back. He does remembers the kisses, though, and the roaming hands, the heavy breaths and the burning desire he felt for Sebastian, the way his hands hitched to touch and squeeze and caress more. He remembers Sebastian lifting him in his arms, his legs embracing his waist while they stumbled in Sebastian’s room. 

He remembers falling on the mattress and Sebastian quickly hovering him, holding him down, kissing him deeply, while his hands unbuttoned his shirt. He remembers how thrilled he felt under Sebastian’s firm hands while he slowly took his clothes off of him with attentive, smooth moves. He remembers how he trembled under Sebastian’s famished look, how he felt a succulent, _willing_ prey under the scrutinizing, hungry stare of a wild animal during his hunting. 

Kurt’s body vibrated in anticipation for giving him pleasure as much as he did for receiving it. And when it came the moment, Sebastian looked just as lost under his hands. 

Kurt remembers taking his time to explore Sebastian’s body over the fabric of his clothes first, then he slowly took him out of them, studying and enjoying every minimum response; he remembers the salty and aphrodisiac taste of Sebastian’s warm skin, the smell of his cologne mixed up with the subtle fragrance of his body and just a hint of Kurt’s own; Kurt remembers drinking him up with his eyes because Sebastian was _stunning_ laid bare in front of him, under him, moaning and pleading for his touch. 

And he remembers labored breaths, and hands tightening too much and nails scratching to leave marks, and sweat dribbling and grunts breaking the silence in the room, and a pleasure so strong that Kurt thought he was going to burst into flames. He remembers waking up still blissed out from the night before, stretching lazily and realizing where he was and that, surprisingly, didn’t bother him at all. 

It may sound bad, but the fact that he didn’t have sex with a complete stranger made things a lot easier. Kurt doesn’t mind fucking around, really, but he still thinks that is more bother than pleasure. He just doesn’t like waking up in an unknown house with no coordinates whatsoever and sneaking out like a thief – and, in the worst scenario, having to say his goodbyes. 

With Sebastian though, it was a different story. Obviously he didn’t wake up to the sound of a serenade or to the smell of just made pancakes. If anything, there were a _good morning_ and a _see you around, Princess_. That didn’t make him feel guilty like it would in another case. And he used the bathroom before going home, which offered him the possibility of looking like someone who _didn’t_ just hook up, or got out of a bar, but like someone who passed the night on a work project like he had said to his friends.

Santana obviously didn’t buy the group project bullshit he had cooked up. In fact, she understood immediately what he had done when he walked in, even if Kurt tried to look nonchalant. The moment Rachel and Blaine left for NYADA, she didn’t hesitate to pester him about the truth.

And even now, Santana is still the only one who knows where Kurt went that night, and where he goes each time there’s a bad drama moment in the apartment, or when he’s stressed out or when he just disappears for no reason at all. That doesn’t mean she’s completely okay with the concept of them being a thing. 

Which they weren’t, at first. But one time Rachel pissed him off _so_ fucking much that Kurt, in order not to strangle her, had to get out of the apartment. She was literally making him crazy about the failure of his relationship with Jamie – the guy he was cheating on even before they actually started dating but that Rachel _swore_ was his soulmate – and about NYADA and about the fact that he was throwing his future away and Kurt, who was already unsure of his future enough, just ran away. 

That day was raining like a bitch and Kurt had no place to go. That didn’t stop him to call a passing cab. He gave indication as the cabbie drove around for awhile and then, when he reached an area he vaguely knew, he made him pull over. He realized he was close to Sebastian’s place just when he found himself in front of his familiar building. He felt stupid, standing there completely wet and lost, but he had nothing to lose. So he went on. 

When Sebastianopened the door, he was sexily disheveled and clearly pissed off for being interrupted. His expression turned to shock quickly though, when his eyes took in Kurt’s soaked clothes and his messed up hair and his upset expression. He was about to ask him what he wanted or presumably what happened, when a male voice came out from inside the apartment, calling his name. 

“Just a second.” He said back, before turning to Kurt. “Have you been scuba diving with this weather, Hummel?” he asked sarcastically. 

Kurt remembers staring in his eyes for a few seconds, completely and stupidly unsure of what to say. Because he went there randomly, guided by anger and the desire of outing what he had inside. 

“Sebastian!” the voice called again. Sebastian rolled his eyes, still leaning on the threshold of his apartment and waiting for his answer. 

“So? I don’t want to pressure you, but I have a guest that was going to give me hopefully a decent blow job and I’d like to come back inside.” 

Kurt wasn’t obviously thinking straight at the time, but he still doesn’t regret saying what he said, even though it probably made him look quite desperate. “Please, I _need_ you.”

Sebastian looked taken aback for a second, but he probably sensed that something was wrong. So he urged Kurt inside and kicked out his previous guest, who literally shot daggers with his eyes while passing by to exit the door. 

And then Sebastian made him feel better, with kisses that tasted like rain and warmth and touches that made him drunk and hyper, that completely made him forget the outside world. 

But at this point, they weren’t anything. It wasn’t a thing. They just had sex twice, out of pure casualties. They weren’t anything until a few weeks later, when Sebastian did the same. He went to Kurt’s apartment in Bushwick, knocked, and when Kurt – that luckily was alone in the house – opened the door, Sebastian greeted him with the echo of Kurt’s words. “I need _you_.” 

And that’s how everything changed. 


	3. Chapter 2

The room is quiet. They’re lying in Sebastian’s king-sized bed, chins up, facing the ceiling, still completely naked and disheveled from the crazy night before. Kurt doesn’t actually know what the time is; the sun is up, but not too high. It’s probably around seven, that is what he can assume by the dim sunbeams filtering through the half closed window curtains. 

It’s pretty chilly in there, but Kurt can’t complain: the sheets are still warm and soft and comfortable and Sebastian’s body is solid and hot next to his – like a hundred degrees hot and it irradiates warmth and safeness. Kurt feels so content and relaxed in this very moment, so protected and at ease that he kind of wishes this could never end.

He knows he has to get out of here sooner or later, because it’s Saturday and on Saturday he starts working at 10 a.m, but if he’s right, at least he still has a few more hours to just chill and enjoy this bubble of perfection that smells like sleep and sex and Sebastian’s cologne. He doesn’t want to check the clock though, he’s okay with being unsure and blissfully ignorant about the _himself time_ he still has got for today, prefers enjoying this till it lasts. 

After all, perfect mornings like these are not so common. Sebastian usually wears him out and because of that he sleeps in until the moment he has to rush out to be on time at work or at school. They just don’t get the chance to just be like this very often, to enjoy these sacred, perfect moments for sharing secrets and thoughts in whispers, even though these are Kurt’s favorite moments together. 

The dim light filtering through the half closed window panes, the smell of rain and that mesmerizing stillness remind him of those early mid-summer mornings in which his father would wake him up when Lima was still silent and asleep to take him to the lake. It was kind of magical, driving around when no one was up yet, seeing that hateful and intolerant place be so _peaceful_ and harmless. It gave him hope, somehow. 

In this very moment Kurt feels stupidly entranced and exited, _expectant_ even; the same way he felt when the radio blasted some Mellencamp’s songs while his father told him stories about his mother. Burt wasn’t a man of many words, but for some reasons he opened up to him in those occasions, when the world was hushed and sleepy and the road was endless and clear in front of them. 

They’re in April, he’s not with his father and they’re not going anywhere, but the atmosphere and the sensations are pretty much the same. Everything makes him want to open up, to share hopes and secrets. And Sebastian must feel the same, because he’s the one to break the silence first. 

“I was wondering” he says, his voice low and soothing, like he doesn’t dare to really make that bubble of safeness pop. 

“What?” Kurt echoes, his words barely a whisper. 

“You never told me why you came to me that first night. Obviously it wasn’t simply to get off.” He reasons, playing distractedly with Kurt’s hair, whose head’s resting perpendicularly next to his right hip. 

Kurt sighs in contentment for that light touch. Normally the rule is not to touch his hair, but Sebastian knows too well that he likes enormously when people play with it gently, so he lets him. There’s no point in stopping him when he’s that ruffled up. 

“No, it wasn’t just to get off. That had been a hell of a week and Rachel was stressing me out over NYADA and other stuff that night. Then she said something utterly selfish and stupid, you know, the usual Rachel bullshit, and I lost it. Ran out, got in a cab, drove around. And you know the rest.” Kurt shrugs. “What about you? The second time, I mean. Was it just because you wanted an easy fuck?” 

Kurt suspects it wasn’t that, but he’s curious to know anyway. 

“Got in a fight with my father over a stupid family meeting.” Sebastian says, staring up at the ceiling. “We were holding an event and my my father’s family - you know, the judgmental side, the one that wanted me to get in Law over Journalism, was there. They started talking shit and I didn’t exactly keep quiet.” 

“Why am I not surprised? About the shutting up part, I mean.” 

Sebastian laughs quietly, still twisting his hair gently. “I know, I know. In my defense, they were being more assholish than usual. My father didn’t like that, so he took me to the side and started lecturing me. But I was sick of their bullshit, so I left.”

Kurt feels the mattress lower a bit where Sebastian is, sign that he’s leaning towards the side, then he returns to his place. There’s a click and then Kurt smells the scent of smoke. Sebastian takes a hit, then the cigarette is in front of Kurt’s eyes. 

Kurt accepts the offer and takes it from Sebastian’s fingers. He takes a hit, slowly, savoring the bitter taste of the smoke on his tongue, before blowing it out and giving the cigarette back to Sebastian.

It’s not something they always do, the smoking. Kurt’s still kind of a health nut, but he likes to indulge every now and then, even though he knows it’s bad for him. But it relaxes him and it’s surely less destructive than getting completely drunk as a stress reliever.

And that actually makes him realize just how much things can change, how _they’ve_ changed only in a few months. Not only he applied to Parsons and got a new role at Vogue.com – Rachel still thinks he’ll regret it, but he doesn’t think so: he’s also a lot more serene, and that’s probably thanks to this _thing_ he has with Sebastian, too. 

Since they started this relationship, Kurt has changed a lot. He’s more aware of himself as a person, has started to listen to his needs and desires more, those same needs and desires that he let out just when he was drunk. He’s a healthier person, both physically and mentally. Those treats he gives to himself - a cigarette, some Thai food, some mind blowing sex – make him feel better, give him the possibility to keep his sanity. His life is still a mystery, is still a complicated mess, but Kurt’s learning to see it under different lights, to accept it as it comes. He doesn’t panic immediately in front of an obstacle: he’s learning to stop and breathe and concentrate on the bright side of the worst. 

And Sebastian is kind of the key of all of that, he’s the person that helps him. 

When he is with him, Kurt feels so empowered, and serene, and so damn satisfied. Not just sexually and physically – even though having sex with Sebastian is probably the most intense thing he’s ever experienced in twenty years of life. What he does to him, Kurt cannot explain. He can’t even define what they are, because it’s too complicated.   
He doesn’t need to anyway, because he keeps them a secret. The world requires labels and definitions and certainties and wouldn’t understand something so exceptional as them, so he hides them, protects them from being sullied and underrated and offended. 

Kurt knows that his own friends wouldn’t accept it either, knows they wouldn’t understand the exceptionality of them, knows they’d try to put a name on them. They’d probably be upset and judgmental about his choices, about his reasons, they’d say he’s out of his mind, that it’s not the real him, that he’s been plagiarized by Sebastian. They’d think that they know him better and they’d be wrong. Even Santana, who’s his most open minded friend still struggles to understand them. 

The thing is, being with Sebastian is _freeing_ , as absurd and paradoxical may sound, considering that he made him feel so damn self-conscious back in high school. But it is. When he’s with him, he’s not stuck behind the idea the others have of him. He doesn’t need to _act_ like himself, he can just _be_ himself. 

He’s just _free._

Free to feel, to express himself, to laugh uncontrollably with his teeth showing; he’s free to be bitchy and selfish and to be sexy and daring and open and dirty; he’s free to be dumb sometimes, and irresponsible and stupid. When he’s with him, he doesn’t feel the weight of the fear of being judged, of being considered out of a character that’s starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable and tight on him. He doesn’t need to censor his thoughts or words; he’s blunt and direct and truthful, in a way that his friends wouldn’t understand, would find offensive. But Sebastian, he knows. He gets it, gets _him_. He can be like that, just like Sebastian can be however he wants to be. If Kurt wants to be loud, if he wants to take control, Sebastian lets him. And if Sebastian is moody and demanding, or if he needs to let his guard off, to express what’s trying to eat his insides, if he needs to be taken care of, he can because Kurt is there to accept him and help him in any way he can.

That’s what this nameless thing between them is about, has been for a while now: being careless and free and honest. It’s about understanding and helping and soothing and sharing their deepest secrets with their bodies. It’s about connecting and being _there_ , the rest of the world – with its evils and its worries and social requirements – aside, forgotten. It’s about leaving out all the rest and focusing on themselves. It’s about them, as individuals, that have found in the other a chance.

There, that’s what Sebastian is to him; not a friend, not a lover: he’s a possibility, a turning point. Since the day they met again, he’s been a constant epiphany. Kurt not only has changed his idea of him; it’s his view of life, of his choices that’s different now. Sebastian has shown him the other side of things, has made him realize new perspectives. He has given him the chance of actually putting those new perspectives into practice, he still does when they’re together in their own world, a place that’s so much better and nicer than the one outside their rooms, where he still has to be responsible not only for himself but also for his friends and family.

And he’s so damn grateful for their little world, because he would have exploded a long time ago with all the resentment and the confusion and all the other feelings he had bottled up inside his heart. 

“Kurt?”

Kurt is suddenly out of his thoughts and takes the cigarette Sebastian is holding out to him. He takes a hit, and after a few seconds he does it again. “Are you hungry?” he asks, handing the cig back.  
“Are you making omelettes with leftover pasta?” 

Kurt laughs. Sebastian is so predictable. “Yes, I am.” 

“Then yes, I am _so_ hungry.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say, I feel so blown away by the response the fanfiction is getting. I'm so, so grateful.I want to thank whoever read the previous chapters, it's a pleasure writing when the feedback it's so positive.  
> So thank you so, so much. I hope you liked this third part too.  
> x


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I know I'm super late, but I've started uni and then my computer broke, so writing this chapter has felt a little like giving birth ahah! No, but really, I am sorry. But the chapter is ready and I won't detain you for much longer. I just want to thank you guys for your comments ( I know, I'm awful because I never reply, but I read and appreciate them all) and kudos. It's nice knowing you're writing something interesting enough. So thank you.  
> Now I'll leave you to the chapter.  
> Enjoy!  
> ps: it's past midnight here and my eyes are crossing, so if you find any mistake just let me know and I'll correct them.  
> Kisses :*

Chapter 3

When they were in high school, they fought a lot. From the very beginning, when Kurt saw Sebastian shamelessly flirt with his boyfriend and politely – but menacingly – slid an arm around Blaine’s in a territorial manner, they knew they wouldn’t like each other. But it wasn’t just because Sebastian wanted to get into Kurt’s boyfriend pants, nor because Kurt was the only whiny obstacle between his desire of getting laid and actually succeeding in doing so. Though it certainly fueled their hatred, it was much more than a matter of jealousy and pride: for the both of them, the other looked exactly like the kind of person they hoped never to be. They were each other’s worst _nightmare_. 

In Sebastian’s eyes, Kurt was just a whiny, prudish, narcissistic bitch that dressed in women’s clothes and silently – but openly too – judged everyone for their supposedly reprehensible behavior, as if he was some kind of saint that had the right to have any say in the way others lived their own lives, as if he was the only one capable of distinguishing what was good and wasn’t just because he had been bullied. 

In Kurt’s eyes, Sebastian embodied exactly the kind of stereotypical, slutty homosexual that ruined their category as a whole, that pleased his bullies’ misconceptions of homosexuality as immorality, but also the typical self-entitled jerk convinced of deserving anything he wanted when and how he wanted it. 

Those were their thoughts on one another and they were adamant about them – it didn’t matterthey were being immature, judgmental and possibly wrong. They didn’t care about overcoming prejudices and getting to a truce; it didn’t matter that on the inside the other could be different – what they saw on the outside was enough to decide that the other was deleterious and that hate was the only possible human emotion that was to be directedto the other. Their perspectives on life were just that clashing and nothing seemed to tame the flaming outrage they felt over the way the other acted. 

Except that life happened and regardless of their stubbornness, their worlds – that seemed so stable, so unmoving – changed, Kurt and Sebastian and their points of view with them. And it had been so unexpected, so sudden that both of them felt like they were being swept off their feet by a hurricane, that left them scared, broken and hurt.

Sebastian saw himself falling in love and ending up heartbroken and realizing that being a Smythe wasn’t a guarantee anymore, when his parents started to take away from him the freedom he had throughout all his teen years and imposing on him expectations and obligations that limited his free will over his own future. 

Kurt saw his dreams fall to pieces when he didn’t get in the school of his dreams, when Rick ‘The Stick’ Nelson called him a Lima loser while he was working at the Lima Bean and later on when Blaine told him he had cheated on him. 

Both of them had their worlds crumble to their feet and had no power to stop it. They watched as everything they knew and cherished was taken away from them. They stood powerless and helpless as life violated them, as it tore apart the certainties they both clothed themselves with, leaving them with just some crumpled, torn pieces of cloth that were just a lame reminder of who they were. 

That was also the moment they both realized they couldn’t give up and whine for the rest of their lives. That was the moment Sebastian decided to pack his bags and leave Westerville, with or without his parents’ consent, and Kurt chose to jump into the void, recklessly and with no plans at all. 

When they arrived in New York, a myriad of opportunities and occasions opened in front of them. The city of dreams looked like a majestic, colorful wardrobe full of new clothes that waited just to be worn. Maybe too many, for someone that loved to over-dress in dreams and expectations and ended up barely covered by what was left of them. At that point, none of the two felt comfortable enough to ditch those clothes – they may have been torn and devastated and probably way too thin to face that whirlpool that was New York; but they were also what anchored them to the only thing they knew: their loss. 

It may sound absurd, but though it hurt thinking of their delusions, pain felt familiar. Undressing from them was worse, because it meant being even more vulnerable. If there’s something worse of being hurt, that’s being lost, naked and alone in front of endless, chaotic attractions that could possibly be a mistake. And neither of them wanted to wake up one day and realize they hadn’t been careful enough to choose something right for them. 

When Kurt and Sebastian met again in that club, they were still wearing those clothes – reminiscences of their younger selves; but they were so thin and torn that they could see through them, see directly the raw material of their personalities that were well hidden behind the fabric when they hated each other. Those tatters – to which they oh so desperately clung to as if they were an armor – told a similar story of a familiar despair. That’s why they felt comfortable enough to look for the other in times of trouble – comfortable enough to take off those clothes eventually, at least in the privacy of their rooms. 

Kiss after kiss, touch after touch, as they slowly got to know each other, to _undress_ each other, both figuratively and literally, they realized that in front of them, under worn out pretentious armors, there was someone they could _fit_ with. Someone similar in some aspects, but different in others – someone possibly complementary, someone that could balance them out and make them better and help them be considered in finding the perfect clothes for that new journey of their lives. 

And they did - they _do_ balance each other out, they do match and understand each other in a way that no one else can. But sometimes being opposites, being that different from one another, makes things quite difficult. Sometimes they fight. Actually, they fight a lot – not as much as in high school, but more frequently than they’d like and surely more intensely. 

The thing is, they both are difficult people and though they may get along perfectly, they can diverge just as much. 

Kurt knows it, knows he’s high maintenance, that he’s bossy and bitchy and picky and sometimes even a little bit tedious. He gets annoyed pretty quickly and talks shit a lot for someone that believes in Karma; he doesn’t settle, he’s a perfectionist and because of that he complains a lot and he’s quite repetitive. He’s not easy to convince and he doesn’t give up without stomping his feet, because he’s stubborn like a donkey and Sebastian points that out on a regular basis. Basically, he’s a pain in the ass.

But Sebastian isn’t better than him. In fact, he’s as difficult as Kurt, just in the other way round. If Kurt’s outspoken and whiny, Sebastian is cryptic and difficult to understand when he doesn’t want to be understood. He’s the moodiest person Kurt’s ever met – and he’s friends with Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez; most of the time, when he’s pissed off or sad or angry or he’s suffering, he just closes off and shuts Kurt out, giving him a hard time figuring out what’s wrong. He just bottles things up, stubbornly tries to ignore and hold off, until he explodes. Kurt’s become pretty good – excellent, really – at making him go nuts and snap. The only way they can sort things out is being honest – and Sebastian is possibly the most honest person, once Pandora’s box gets opened. He’s _frighteningly_ blunt and sincere and direct, with words so cutting and with an intensity so strong that should be scary, but that Kurt finds strangely attractive (There’s beauty in the way Sebastian can be so fierce and unapologetic and mean, if he wants to.)

Truth is, they both dish out what they receive. They both can be assholes, they both can be cruel if they want to hurt one another. They’ve reached the point where they know each other’s weaknesses just like their strengths, they know which lines are not to be crossed; they know how to _break_ one another, how to destroy the other: simply, they _trust_ each other. 

That trust is what could be their end, but it’s also what keeps them close. It’s this trust that leads them to find each other again and again, to find comfort and ease; it’s what leads them to make up and soothe with kisses and touchesthe scratches made by their own cutting words. 

It’s also the proof of how much power they have on one another and how actually deep the thing they feel for one another is – something unnamable, intelligible, undefined but oh so strong. 

And that’s scary. Having so much influence on someone else, someone who has the same crucial, decisive power on you is utterly terrifying. It means great responsibilities; it means having the power to ruin or enhance someone’s life. It means standing approximately on a thread, awkwardly trying to keep upright, gripping tightly the hand of a person that’s in the exact same precarious position. It’s scary, but it’s also thrilling. 

But mostly, it reminds that- regardless of whatever they may say, whatever thing may happen, they’ve got each other’s back. 

***

Kurt is furious – _furious_ with Sebastian. He nearly hates him for being the complete asshole he is. He’s so angry and so offended that his previous worry about the latter’s state is not his concern anymore. 

Kurt knows something’s up with Sebastian – he’s known this right from the moment they texted this morning. He was distant and uncharacteristically formal for their standards – they’ve been texting a lot lately, talking about no sense things that happen to them when they’re not together, sharing snarky remarks and sarcastic humor, hating people, the weather, traffic, and animals, and roommates, and families. It’s not just a way to contact the other to hook up, but rather a way to stay connected when they don’t have the grounding, comforting physical presence of the other. It’s not the same, but it’s something – Kurt was enjoying this new façade of their relationship. 

Except this morning Sebastian was strange, like something was off. That’s why he decided to head to his apartment after a brief stop at his favorite coffee shop, when Isabelle told him he had the rest of the day off. Really, Kurt wasn’t expecting a grand gesture of gratitude from Sebastian’s part. He was doing it genuinely, because he wanted to lift his mood – after all, that’s what Sebastian always does for him: he makes things better. 

He wasn’t expecting to be treated like shit either, though. That’s what Sebastian has done from the moment he knocked at the door. Kurt’s tried to keep it cool, but the moment Sebastian literally snapped at him for no apparent reason at all – screaming he was no weak damsel in distress, that he didn’t anyone’s help, especially Kurt’s- he just decided he wasn’t going to waste his free time with some asshole who would just yell at him. So, after a very heartfelt “fuck off”, Kurt left. 

That’s when the weather decided it would be nice to unleash a terrible storm on him, unlucky wanderer in just a light jacket and thin sneakers. 

Kurt hugs himself tighter, trying to shield himself from the cold wind and shaking slightly his head in order to move his now soaked hair from his forehead and his eyes; neither action is effective, though, being the rain too strong and his bangs completely glued to his skin. Kurt’s teeth tatter and his limbs sometime convulse from the strength of his shivers, but his heart inflates with hope when he sees his building in the distance. He walks faster, positive he’ll manage to cross the road in time before the streetlight turns red. But then a sneeze catches him off guards and he has to stop in his tracks to find the only – _overused_ – tissue left from the back pocket of his jeans. Obviously he misses the green light and in that exact moment he wonders why in the hell karma’s fucking so much with him. 

Sebastian, his mind replies automatically. It’s all his fault. Since he’s a bitch and karma’s too, they probably bonded and now karma’s just helping Sebastian making his life miserable. Only because he bought a fucking coffee to lift his mood and passed by. 

The light turns green and Kurt sprints as he crosses the street, eager to finally have a roof over his head and possibly change into something warmer and _dry_. When he finally reaches his apartment, it’s like all his energy leaves his body; suddenly he’s exhausted, every single bone in his body hurts and there’s a unnerving ringing sound in his ears that just makes his headache worse. 

Somehow he manages to open his front door without losing grip on his keys in spite of his frozen fingers. As he steps inside, there’s just silence to welcome him in – a blessing for his pulsing temples. Kurt didn’t dare to hope, but he’ll be eternally grateful for lucking out this time: putting up with his roommates – especially Santana – would have been nearly impossible in this condition. He sighs as relief washes over him; he closes the door and starts to unbutton his soaked jacket, trying to do it as quickly as he can without collapsing, and he leaves it on his sofa. He’s just too exhausted to actually worry about being tidy. He’s barely standing upright at this point. How he reaches his room and manages to get out of his wet clothes and in his pajamas, Kurt doesn’t know. He’s so not interested in such technicalities that the moment his aching head touches his pillow he falls asleep. 

He wakes up awhile later because something cold is sliding under his arm and something else is poking annoyingly at his shoulder. He’s barely into consciousness, but his head is starting to pulse again and he doesn’t want to acknowledge whoever has just decided to wake him up and put him again in misery. And besides, he knows the light is on and it would probably burn his pupils if he just tried to open his eyes. 

“C’mon, Hummel, wake up.” 

_ Santana _ . He should have known. She probably just wants to make it even tougher for him. She hates him. She wants him dead. 

“Kurt, you’re too hot and not in the good way, so do me a favor and at least get out of the covers so I can give you some aspirin and maybe measure your temperature.”

Oh. That was unexpected. And kinda sweet of her. But Kurt’s not sure he can move his limbs at all. Instead of trying, he just groans – and god, his throat _hurts._

“Come on” Kurt feels the covers being lifted and two firm hands grab his shoulders. Santana tries to push him up and Kurt attempts to help her by planting his heels on the mattress and doing the same – everything while stubbornly keeping his eyes closed. He’s too weak to open them. 

“God, Hummel, you’re a mess. A sweaty, heavy mess.” She mumbles, and she seems out of breath. Kurt feels both sorry and kinda moved. But mostly tired, so he wants to crawl back into his cocoon of covers. “Here the pills.” He hears Santana saying. Kurt swallows and his throat is dry and painfully tight. 

“I can’t swallow” he croaks, his voice so low and broken that he barely recognizes it as his own. 

“That sucks.” And as she says this, Kurt can swear she’s smirking smugly. “Does Sebastian?”

Regardless of the pain, he groans again. “Please don’t” he asks. Now that she’s brought him up all the anger from before is boiling again, though, he realizes, he’s mostly sad. It’s never been uncommon for them to fight – their whole relationship is about pushing each other in some way, for god’s sake - and those words weren’t the worst he could come up with. But the way Sebastian screamed at him, his voice and his eyes so full of desperate rejection and hatred..that’s what disturbs him the most, now that he thinks about it. That’s what stings the most. After all they’ve been through together, he just doesn’t deserve that kind of shit, not from Sebastian. Not when he just wanted to be there for him. 

Santana must sense something’s wrong because she doesn’t say anything more about the topic. She just bends a little and takes the thermometer – that’s what the cold thing was, Kurt realizes -from under his arm. She looks at it warily, then sighs. “Congratulations, you’re so hot that Hell’s chilly compared to you. Come on, open your mouth, Hummel. I have a dinner to cook.” 

Kurt sighs, eventually squinting an eye open. He takes the aspirin from Santana and swallows it with just a sip of water. He feels like suffocating for a moment, but then Santana encourages him to drink a little bit more and his throat does feel a little bit better. 

“Now, the fever should break, but make sure to drink every now and then, okay? Just try not to die. I’ll be back to check on you.” 

Kurt nods, or at least he thinks he does; a second later he’s buried under the covers again and the lights are off. It doesn’t take him longer to fall asleep again. 

He sleeps on and off throughout all the evening. Rachel, Elliott and Blaine come to see how he’s doing and Kurt forces himself to act like he’s happy to see them, but truth is that at the moment the only person he tolerates is Santana, who thankfully is smart enough to usher them out so he can rest in peace. He wakes up again in the middle of the night, while everyone is sleeping – Santana too – and he may or may not cry a bit thinking about Sebastian. He blames his headache and the fact that his everything hurts, that are making him crazy and way too vulnerable. 

When he wakes up for the umpteenth time, he’s brought into consciousness by gentle strokes in his hair and a sweet, low humming in his ears. At first he just enjoys the soothing treatment someone’s serving him, but then doubt starts to creep in. That’s not Santana, for three basic reasons: for once, though she’s shown how caring she can be, Santana’s not the type to sing to _him_ ; second, she’d never touch his hair; and third, she’s not a man. 

Kurt’s heart skips a beat. What is Sebastian doing here? 

“Good morning, princess.” he says, probably noticing he’s finally awake. His voice his gentle and low, a kind whisper against his ear. Kurt shivers at the warmth of Sebastian’s breath. He blinks his eyes open, slowly, his brows furrowed,and finds Sebastian curled on a chair next to his bed, his nose barely a inch from his face. Though he’s still mad at him, he can’t help but find him a really nice sight for his sore eyes. 

“What are you doing here” he mumbles, his voice awfully groggy and his throat completely dehydrated. Sebastian stops caressing his head just for the brief time he needs to grab a bottle of water and urge him to drink.

“What do you think?” he asks and Kurt hates that subtle rhetorical accent to the question. He glares at him, but Sebastian seems unfazed while he securely but kindly pulls him up a little bit. Kurt hates being this weak, hates that he’s so down he can’t even be properly mad at Sebastian, hates that he can’t do nothing but surrender at his cares. He complies, lets Sebastian handle him, but once he’s drunk and settled again against the mattress, he doesn’t let him touch his hair again. He may be vulnerable, but he still has dignity. Sebastian doesn’t deserve to be treated like usual, doesn’t deserve Kurt’s trust yet. 

Sebastian flinches at Kurt’s severe look, but he respects him, respects his feelings and his decision and his fingers close on thin air instead of Kurt’s locks. 

“Santana blackmailed you?” he asks, and he’s proud of himself for being able to be sarcastic still.

“She didn’t need to. She may have given me a piece of her mind when she informed me you didn’t feel well, but if I’m here it’s not because she told me to. I know it’s my fault if you’re in this situation and the least I can do is help you.” 

Kurt glances at him and he looks sincere. He wishes it could be enough to make him feel better – both physically _and_ emotionally. 

“You shouldn’t be here anyway” he mutters, and there’s pain, and delusions, and anger as he says those words. “I am no damsel in distress either” 

“Touché” Sebastian says, the shadow of a smile on his lips. Kurt doesn’t mirror it and looks away, fixing his gaze on the white ceiling of his room. Sebastian sighs and sounds defeated.

“Look, Kurt..”

“I just wanted to keep you company because you sounded strange and didn’t want to leave you alone. That attitude was really uncalled for”

“I know I acted like a jerk, okay? I really am sorry. And if I’m here is also because I want to earn your forgiveness.”

Kurt turns slightly and looks at him. He does seems sorry and a little bit lost and a tiny part of him takes pleasure in seeing him struggle too. Sadistic delight aside, though, he’s mostly happy and frustrated; happy because things between them may not be okay yet, but they will be; frustrated because he knows Sebastian won’t need to earn forgiveness: deep down he’s forgiven him already. And that’s unfair. 

Kurt sighs. “You really did act like an asshole.” 

Sebastian smiles ruefullyin spite of himself. “I know.” 

“And you really hurt me. It wasn’t just what you said, though. It’s the _way_ you said those words. There was _hatred_ behind them, Bas.” His voice cracks a little when he says the word _hatred_ , and his eyes are damp for unshed tears, as he thinks back at how Sebastian acted the previous day. It’s impressed in his retinas, how he looked upset and angry and how hard and cutting his voice sounded, how venomous and hurtful he _wanted_ to be. He was indeed distraught, but he hadn’t been just casually mean: he wanted to hurt him. 

“I know.” Sebastian mutters and Kurt’s heart stops for a moment. But before Kurt has the chance to curl into a fetus position and start sobbing, Sebastian is talking again. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate you. I don’t. You know I care about you. But let’s just say I was having a really bad, bad moment and you happened in the middle of it. I know it doesn’t justify my actions, but it’s not something I would ever do purposefully. Hurting you, I mean.”

Kurt lets out a shaky breath. “Okay.” 

There’s a moment of stillness where neither of them risk to talk. It’s Sebastian who does eventually. “Can I hold you?” 

Kurt takes a moment to think. He’s glared angrily at Sebastian just a few minutes ago because he tried tostroke his hair and now he’s letting him in his bed? They haven’t even completely sorted things out yet and let’s not forget he’s probably contagious. Then again, Kurt has to admit that deep down he wants Sebastian to hug him. He _is_ sorry, desperately so, after all, and he’s also mature enough to know what’s best for him: if he wants to catch the flu, Kurt won’t be the one to stop him. So he nods and Sebastian is on his feet urging him to move a little to make him some room on the bed. Kurt rolls on his side and Sebastian crawls under the covers, settling behind him, his chest against his back and an arm embracing him tightly. 

It takes him literally a second to melt completely in his embrace. That’s when Kurt realizes he needs this. They both do. 

They lay like that in silence for awhile, enjoying the closeness, the rightfulness of their bodies pressed together. Sebastian sneaks his hand under Kurt’s pajamas top and starts drawing imaginary figures on his abdomen with his warm, calloused fingers and Kurt is just happy they still can do this. 

But then questions and doubts start to unravel in his pulsing brain and he just _has_ to ask. 

“Why were you so upset?” 

Sebastian goes rigid behind him, though he tries to be casual about it. He shifts a little, sneaks his leg between Kurt’s ones. “It’s kind of..complicated.” Sebastian confides, his voice low, his lips brushing against the nape of Kurt’s neck. “And you still don’t feel better. Maybe you should rest a little. We’ll talk later.” 

“You can elaborate all you want. It’s not like I’m going anywhere soon.” He mumbles, feeling incredibly sleepy. He’s still exhausted somehow, and the proximity and the warmth of Sebastian’s body are not helpful to keep him awake, but he wants to know. He wants to understand. “I promise I won’t fall asleep while you’re talking.” 

Sebastian’s chest vibrates with a quiet laugh. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, babe.”

“Sebastian, please.” 

Kurt feels Sebastian sigh. “Okay.” He concedes, and he sounds incredibly defeated again. Kurt moves his hand to interlace it with Sebastian’s, squeezing it encouragingly.Sebastian squeezes back, as if he’s thanking him for his silent support. 

“You remember I told you I’d been accepted as an intern in this little editorial office, right?” Kurt nods, because of course he remembers. They’d gone out to celebrate and then headed back at Sebastian’s place for some mind blowing congratulatory sex.“Well, yesterday I called them because I needed some information about my first day there. They sounded confused because apparently I’d sent them an email in which I told them I didn’t want the job anymore.”

Kurt freezes. Sebastian kisses his hair as to sooth him and Kurt feels stupid because it really should be the other way round. He disentangles and rolls over so that he can look into Sebastian’s eyes. He’s not looking at him though. His eyes are closed, his brows slightly furrowed and his jaw quite tense. He grabs Sebastian’s hand again and squeeze it again, because he knows the worst has yet to come. 

“So I called my father. Asked if he knew something about what happened. You know what he said? That he’d wished this delusion would bring me on the right road. That my destiny was in law and that he just tried to make it happen faster.” Sebastian he’s so tense he’s shaking. Kurt doesn’t know what to do, so he just brings Sebastian’s hand to his mouth and places there the lightest kiss. 

Sebastian exhales deeply. “I told him to fuck off and hung up.”

“Bas, I’m..I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me?” He was right, Sebastian _wasn’t_ okay yesterday and knowing _why_ makes his heart hurt more than he ever thought he would. But that still doesn’t explain why he lashed out on him. 

Sebastian’s expression is hard, as he squeezes Kurt tighter. “I wanted to. The moment I ended the call with my dad I was already dialing your number by heart. That’s when I freaked out.”

Sebastian opens his eyes and looks at him like he expects some kind of reaction. Kurt’s just confused. “I..I honestly don’t understand.” 

“I just..dammit, Kurt, I dialed your number _by heart._ That’s how much I depend on you. That’s how much power you have on me. I’ve always been a very independent person; I- I got _scared_. Scared of not being able to be okay, to _function_ without you. So when you texted me this morning I tried to be less..”

“Your usual self with me” Kurt interjects in a whisper and Sebastian nods. “I wanted to make sure that I still could deal things by myself. Detoxify myself. I was just so lost and scared and furious with myself and..suddenly there you were, knocking on my door with your comfort coffee because somehow you _knew_ I wasn’t okay and I lost it.” Sebastian locks eyes with him and moves away his ruffled hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry if I let it out on you, my deficiency in dealing with feelings isn’t your fault.”

Kurt smiles a little in spite of everything. “If it makes you feel better, you’re not alone in this. I mean, I’m a little dependent on you myself. I would never have done some things I did these past few months if it wasn’t for you. So..I mean –“ Kurt gets cut off by the sudden press of Sebastian’s mouth on his, warm and familiar and comforting. Sebastian lingers for a few seconds, but it’s Kurt that breaks the contact. Not because he really wants to, but he really doesn’t want to infect to infect Sebastian either. 

“You’ll catch the flu, stupid.” He mumbles, and he’s out of breath. Sebastian smiles cheekily. “It’s not a bad thing if that means you’ll take care of me.”

“Says the guy who freaked out because he felt too reliant on somebody.” Kurt jokes. Sebastian pouts and pokes him on his sides teasingly and Kurt answers by slapping him on his chest without much conviction. They share a tiny, secret smile, a smile that whispers _we’re okay_. And Kurt relaxes, lets his head rest on Sebastian’s chest and sighs. 

But there’s still a little shadow on this moment of bliss. He leaves a brief kiss on Sebastian’s shirt and then clears his throat, that is burning a little after all their talking. “What are you going to do with your father and the internship?” he asks cautiously, because he doesn’t want to sadden Sebastian, but that’s something they cannot ignore. 

Sebastian starts massaging Kurt’s head and sighs. “Earlier I’ve sent another email to the place asking if there was still the possibility for me to work there. I doubt it, but you never know. I’m already looking around to find other places that offer internships, anyway. And if I can’t find anything, maybe I’ll consider your ex job.” 

“The diner is no place for you, preppy boy” Kurt jokes and he’s happy to hear a little laugh from Sebastian. 

“No one has ever been this supportive of me, thanks, Kurt!” he snarks, but he’s not really offended. “And for my father..I don’t think I’ll talk to him again anytime soon. I’m done with his bullshit, this time for real. When he learns to respect me and my decisions, maybe I’ll rethink my position. But until then, I’ll gladly ignore him.” 

“He’ll come around. But until then” Kurt mumbles, echoing Sebastian’s words, “I’ll make sure you don’t lack in support.” 

“Because you’ll be with me.”

“Yeah.” Kurt confirms, before stifling a yawn. “Sorry, we were having a moment and I ruined it.”

Sebastian laughs silently and leaves a kiss on his hair. “You did. Now sleep, come on.”

“ ‘kay. You too” And with that, Kurt falls into Morpheus’s arms. 


End file.
